


She Moves

by Evilawyer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-04
Updated: 2008-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilawyer/pseuds/Evilawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She brings life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Moves

**Author's Note:**

> Time Frame: End of "The Doctor Dances", as Rose dances with Capt. Jack Harkness to swing music.

He'd been proud of Susan. Loved her, too. She'd been the child of his mind if not his body. In some ways, that made her more _his_.

He remembers, on those rare occasions when he can't stop himself from remembering, that he didn't always show her that pride or that love. Sometimes, he'd snap at her. When she'd do things like dance to the outrageous noise she'd call music, when she'd laugh and smile as she danced, he'd cantankerously tell her “My dear child. Do stop that horrible racket and all of that undignified jumping about.” Every time, she'd stop dancing, stop laughing and smiling, cast her eyes downward and say “I'm sorry, Grandfather.” Nearly every time, he'd feel a sort of infantile satisfaction as she did.

Sometimes, though, he would think that perhaps he shouldn't have said anything at all. As she turned off her radio and came to stand silently by his side at the console, he would think that perhaps he should have just ignored the annoying hubbub and let her keep moving in time to the rhythm. Those were times when he'd realize that she made everything around her alive, made everything around her a part of life. She brought life. Yes, she did. And that was irritating.

And after she'd left.... No. That wasn't right. By his own hand, he is the last of the Time Lords. There is no reason to lie anymore, no reason to hide what he was, what he may even still be. There's no one left to put it to the test.

After he'd left Susan.... No. Still not right. After he'd abandoned Susan, he'd remember how she would dance. He would miss watching her then. He would miss her and the light and love she had brought into his life. He'd been unable to see what she brought him until after he'd succeeded in ridding himself of all responsibility for her. Sometimes, he would feel the stirrings of shame because of that inability; he would ruthlessly squelch those stirrings before the shame could grow to full maturity.

But then he regenerated again and again, and time --- so much time --- went by. Centuries passed and he barely thought of Susan. He was far too busy dealing with other companions and righting universal wrongs. Besides, he'd meant what he said. He had. They weren't just words to stifle a crying child's tears and pleas. He would go back. He would see her again.

He hadn't, though. He hadn't gone back and he hadn't seen her again, not on purpose anyway. Now he never will. Of all the hard, cold things he's had to live with because of what he's done, because of what he had to do, the knowledge that he'll never see Susan again has been the hardest and the coldest. So he's tried to never think of Susan. It hurts too much every time he does.

But now he's here, in his TARDIS, the last survivor of a war in which there was no winner. He's here, watching this young shop girl with no A levels and no job as she dances to music written almost half a century before she was born. He thinks of all the things she's done since she started traveling with him. He thinks of how proud he's become of her, how much prouder still he'll be as she grows, and how much life there is in the TARDIS now that she's around.

And he thinks of Susan.

He's been locked away in guilt and locked away from life. He's been a dead thing. But now, watching Rose dance, watching her laugh and smile as she dances, he's alive. He's alive and he's a part of life.

She brings life. Yes, she does. And that's fantastic.


End file.
